


Sollux is Shitty and Still Gets Pale Laid

by Newtavore



Series: raunchy pale threesome (with no sex) [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Again, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eridan's a Woobie, Fluff and Angst, He's Not a Total Dickhead At Least, Idk What Tags, M/M, Nepeta's a Bitch, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Self-Mutilation, Sollux Redeems Himself, Sorry again, This Seems to Be a Reccuring Theme, Threesome - M/M/M, sorry about that, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtavore/pseuds/Newtavore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ED is moirails with Karkat, and if that isn’t the most serendipitous fucking thing. The troll you recently discovered you feel hideous amounts of pity for is already pale for the troll you've felt hideous amounts of pity for for sweeps. </p><p>Get your shit together, Sollux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sollux is Shitty and Still Gets Pale Laid

**Author's Note:**

> hhaha sorry please don't take this seriously they are so out of character

Karkat had really ripped you a new one. 

 

Your name is Sollux Captor, and your best friend had, not too long ago, grabbed you face and rubbed your nose in the mess of your life choices. You don't blame him for it; you hadn't realized just how much of an asshole you were being, to be honest, and the fact that, as lovely and kind as FF could be, she was just as bad as you at remembering and reminding you to do vital things like take your goddamn medication probably didn't help your abysmal attitude as of late. 

 

You do feel remorse for how much pain you've unintentionally caused. The only thing you can possibly say in your defense is that, without the miracle pills the humans had alchemetized to help you with your wild moodswings, you'd basically plunged into the worst downswing of the sweep, and Eridan was a convenient, passive target for your negativity... but it isn't really an excuse. You want to apologize, but the main focus of your recent ire has done his level best to avoid being in a room with you at all, going so far as to duck out in the middle of a task in order to escape. Once again, you have no one to blame but yourself; you'd been a right ass to ED lately, and your teasing had gone far beyond what was acceptable, especially since you knew how emotionally fucked up he could get. 

 

Which is kind of where KK comes in. He'd dragged you to an unoccupied room and had basically flayed you alive, more angry at you than he'd ever been, to the point where you were almost scared for your continued existence at some points during his incensed, rage-fueled maledictions. 

 

You needed to know just how badly you'd fucked up, as much as you wish you were able to stay in the dark on that front. 

 

You'd basically been torturing him, was what KK's rant had boiled down to. You'd been teasing and taunting in a decidedly cruel manner, and making a highblood mad when they didn't have a moirail was pretty much tantamount to suicide, except ED was hell bent on never snapping and hurting anyone ever again, even with incitement coming from a hideously large number of sources. You were the _largest_ source of stress and unhappiness, of course, but not the _only_ one. Somehow, that made it worse.

 

You'd started taking your meds and stopped cornering him the very next day, and not just because of KK's rather surprising announcement of their budding moirallegience. 

 

You couldn't stop yourself from watching him, though, watching and wincing and cringing because even with KK's attentions and defense he still looks drawn and haggard, hunted, almost, and you can't quash the little flares of pity spiking deep in your chest no matter how hard you try. 

 

And that has led to this, this being the circumstances in which you find yourself at this very moment. 

 

ED's in the kitchen, backed up against a wall, a little dribble of stark violent making a trail down his chin from where his teeth have punctured his lip, visibly trembling, though you can't tell if it's in rage or fear. Nepeta, NP, is standing in front of him, hissing and spitting wildly, and though you can hardly understand a word she's saying you can tell she's angry and it has something to do with Equius. 

 

"NP, lay off," you say, giving both the current residents of the kitchen a start. You have to resist the urge to wince when ED visibly bites even harder, a fresh line of blood brightening against his pale skin. Now that he's stationary and not in the process of running away from you, you can see the dark circles under his eyes, and the scratches and dull spots on his horns. He looks exhausted and worn down and you feel horribly, undeniably guilty for the hand you've had in that. 

 

"I will do no such thing!" she snarls, taking a step forward, and you're reminded that, despite her appearance and general personality, she's a dangerous and temperamental predator, "I will do nothing of the sorrt until Eridan purromises to keep his filthy paws away furrom Equius!" 

 

The cutesy cat puns are jarring when said with the angry, snarling tone NP's adopted, more of a growl than a purr, consonants hard and rolling, but you are not intimidated. Eridan, on the other hand... well, he's not intimidated either, but you can see his fins flare involuntarily, skin spread between thin tines a shocking violet, and he's letting loose a bubbly growl but he's not attacking, not doing anything. Just sitting there, taking it. It infuriates you, for some reason.

 

"I'm sure ED has no designs on Equius, and even if he did, it's not like you have a right to any quadrant but his diamond," you say, rolling your eyes and the territorial display, "Lay off, NP, just leave him alone."

 

She hisses at you, but you spark in response, a subtle reminder than you can and will toss her out of here without so much as a by-your-leave, and she stalks away, movements fluid and silent. 

 

ED slides to the floor as soon as she's gone, hands wrapped violently tight around his own horns, and when his sleeves ride down you can see fresh scratch wounds over the backs of his hands and forearms. You take a step forward, and then another, and another, moving slowly and pausing every time he cringes back into the wall until you're crouched in front of him, hands unthreatening and pressed against the floor. 

 

"Hey," you say, awkwardly, because you're a failure when it comes to actually talking to people in real life, because you don't know what to do, how to react, because the person you've been dumping your shitty emotions on is in front of you, broken down and hurting and _fuck if you know what to do_ , "Hey, are you- are you alright?"

 

He mutters under his breath, seemingly unable to hear you, eyes clenched shut and claws digging into his horns so hard that you can actually hear the grinding. 

 

"Stupid fuckin' worthless piece of  _shit_ ," he says, and for a moment you think he's addressing you, but he's not, he's not talking to you at all, you're not even sure if he remembers you're here, "Can't even keep yourself together, can't even go to the fuckin'  _kitchen_  by yourself, the fuck is  _wrong_  with you, you're so fuckin'  _pathetic_  you might as well just get culled now, you waste of space, you fuckin' waste of  _space_ -"

 

You reach out a hand, touch him on the shoulder, and he snarls, eyes snapping open. Yo're positive you've fucked up, positive that he's going to attack you, rage and fear and pain twisting his expression, but he just wrenches a hand away from his horns and bites on it, hard, gnawing in a way that has to hurt like a bitch even as his other hand falls to frantically claw at his wrist. His head smacks against the wall hard, one, two, three times before you throw caution to the wind and hold it still with your psionics, keeping him from knocking himself out. 

 

"Hey- hey, ED, stop it, you're-"

 

He bites again, teeth clicking against what you hope to god isn't bone, and huddles pathetically against the wall, long limbs awkwardly folded inwards, crumpled up like a dead spider. 

 

"You're hurting yourself," you mutter, catching first one hand with your psi, then the other, carefully drawing it away from his mouth. There's something horrible and uncomfortable twisting in your gut, and you think it might be the bastard abomination love child of guilt and pity, because if there is anyone in this universe deserving of pity you think it might be him at this moment, curled up and crying and covered in flecks and spatters of his own violet blood. 

 

He's inconsolable, now, and you think he might be chewing on his tongue and you're kind of scared because you are a _hermit_ , you don't know how to deal with people in such obvious emotional distress. FF and AA are both incredibly strong, independent people, capable of taking care of themselves. You've never really been in a position like this, and you don't have a _single fucking clue_ what to do. 

 

"Shoosh," you say, finally, desperation coloring your voice because he's started muttering and keening again and it is literally the most horrible noise you've ever heard, and you just want him to  _stop_ , "Shoosh, now."

 

You pap him lightly on the cheek, and he instantly goes still, eyes wide. 

 

"Oh," he says in a soft little voice, sort of shocked and confused and dazed all at once, and you can see calm reclaim him, see the irrational thought process of his instinctual rage melting into something more rational and logical. 

 

You're kind of weirded out by how little it takes to calm him down, but you don't question it too deeply. You're just glad he's not ripping himself to pieces anymore. 

 

"I'm going to call KK," you murmur, pulling your phone out with one hand, keeping the other on his cheek. Good thing, too, because he's instantly upset again when you start texting, trying to swipe your phone out of your hands with trembling fingers. He's disoriented and easy to dodge, though. 

 

"No, don't- don't call Kar, he just got to sleep, I don't wanna- don't wake him up, it took three fuckin' days to get him to just take a nap, and it'll take even longer next time, especially if you wake him up like this," he stutters out, all in a rush, and you frown because as much as you know about KK's horrible habit of just not ever sleeping, like the idiot he is, you also know he will literally kill you if you don't call him. 

 

"He's your moirail, right? And you're kind of flipping out, in case you haven't noticed."

 

"I can- I can get myself under control, I'm not gonna- fuck, i'm not gonna snap and kill anybody, okay? He needs his sleep, I'm not fuckin' selfish enough to- I've been doin' well enough on that front for this long, I can keep myself from hurting anyone while he sleeps, I'm not gonna go crazy., I'm not gonna hurt anyone, I _swear_ -"

 

"You're hurting _yourself_ ," you reply, because your hands are covered in little spots of violet blood and you can see the dulled point of the horn he'd been repetitively scraping against the wall. 

 

"Doesn't count."

 

"I'm sure he won't see it that way."

 

He whines and shudders in a way that makes you feel really, really guilty again, and his hands twitch, like he's trying not to claw himself up. 

 

You don't think you've ever seen a highblood turn his rage against himself before, but it's a terrifying sight and you wish you'd never had the opportunity to witness it. You're holding his hands and head still with your psii, little lines of red and blue flickering over his pale skin, but he's still biting his lip hard, and you know he'd be grinding his horns into dust against the metal walls if you even thought about letting him go. 

 

He becomes increasingly agitated as the phone rings, and you regret having to distress him like this, but he needs his moirail more than KK needs to sleep right now, and you know KK will see it the same way. When he picks up, he doesn't even sound tired, and you're struck with the thought that he probably just pretended to go to sleep to stop ED from wigging out. It certainly kept you from feeling too bad about maybe waking him up, that's for sure. 

 

"Sollux?"

 

"Your moirail's having a thing in the kitchen," you say, and when ED whines and hunches up all shamefaced you can't help but pat him on the head, running one hand carefully through his hair, "He's calm enough but I'm not sure how long it's gonna last. I chased NP away from him, she was flipping the fuck out about something or other, I don't know."

 

"Be there in a minute," he says before hanging up. 

 

ED's gone all loopy, eyes glazed, absently pressing into your fingers and you rub lightly at the base of one horn. It's definitely better than him making all those horrible noises, especially when he starts to make a tiny, glubby little purr, something that just kind of makes your heart melt in your chest. 

 

"Hey, KK's coming. He didn't sound sleepy or anything, I think he was already awake."

 

He kind of looks at you, like maybe he was thinking about responding but decided it would take too much effort. It's cute. He's cute. Fuck. 

 

"I've been trying to catch you for a bit, now," you say, running your fingers up, brushing them ever so carefully against some of the rubbed dull spots on his horns, "I wanted to apologize. I was… I was really out of line, with some of the things I said and did. I just wanted to let you know that I started taking my meds again and that it won't happen anymore. I… so yeah. Sorry."

 

His eyes flutter a bit, and he stares at you in shock before pressing against your hands, mumbling something about it being okay. It really isn't okay, but you let it go because at least he isn't throwing your shitty apology in your face like he probably should have. 

 

And then KK careens around the corner and slides into place beside you, crooning low and worried in his throat and asking, what's wrong, what happened, are you alright?

 

"Kar," he says, voice wobbly, and you let him go, let him fall forward into KK's arms, and he curls up there like KK's the only thing in the world that matters, only thing that's safe. 

 

It makes your chest ache, and you look away. 

 

You actually try to remove yourself from the situation altogether, but when you go to leave, one of ED’s hands, the one with the bite mark, tangles in your shirt to keep you from getting up. You could have just pried it from your clothing and left, but his fingers tremble and twitch in the cloth and only still when your hand wraps around them, and then you can’t bring yourself to move. 

 

Karkat, of course, notices, looking from his moirail to you, to your hands and back again like he’s in the process of dissecting every last action and movement, and he probably is. That’s just the kind of idiot Karkat is, reading everything and nothing into every last action and reaction. 

 

“Come on, Eridan, let’s get you back to the pile, okay? Can you stand?” he says, and though ED gives a valiant effort, the sudden rush of adrenaline has left him weak and wobbly, and two steps in he’s collapsed and only you reflexively catching him with your psionics keeps him from hitting the floor hard. Again, the action is rewarded with a searching, heuristic stare. 

 

“If you could help me get him to the room. He’s a fucking hell of a lot denser than he looks.”

 

You don’t even know what else to do but nod, and move ED through the air till he’s in your arms, supported by both your powers and your own thin layer of wiry muscle. With the way his bones press against your arms, you think Karkat was definitely exaggerating ED’s weight- you are no poster child for healthy eating, especially during a fit, but the fish troll in your grasp is thin and cold and shivering and so very small that it makes your chest ache, even though he already has a moirail. 

 

ED is moirails with Karkat, and if that isn’t the most serendipitous fucking thing. The troll you recently discovered you feel hideous amounts of pity for is already pale for the other troll you've felt hideous amounts of pity for for sweeps. Isn't that your luck.

 

Eridan clings to you, pressing against your chest like he can soak up your heat, fingers clenched in the cloth of your shirt. With him plastered against you like this, you can feel every rise and fall of his ribs, and the fluttering of his heart as he slowly calms from his rage. His body is fragile and oh so breakable in your arms, your powers, but you know that, if properly angered, he could snap you in half. He could do more damage to you with a flick of his wrist than you could do with a hammer. 

 

It’s… odd, the discrepancies in your knowledge of what he’s capable of and the feel of his thin, delicate frame, fins and gills and hotspots of sensation littering his skin like targets. You pity him, hate him and pity him and you don’t know what you feel but whatever it is, you need to shut it down now. You’d already committed pale infidelity, though it was for the betterment of your continued existence, you do not need to continue to ruin your friend's relationship by feeling so much paleness for his moirail.

 

The walk to their pileroom is blessedly short, but even when he's nestled into Karkat’s lap, surrounded on all sides by soft blankets and pillow, he refuses to let go of you. 

 

You have no idea why. You were… worse than cruel. You were rancorous, sadistic, spiteful, all because you forgot to take two goddamn pills, once a day. You wrecked him, you can see it now in the shadows under his eyes and the lines on his face, pained and tired. You tore him nearly to pieces, you and everyone else on this fucking meteor, and you have no clue why he’d want you anywhere near him. 

 

“You don’t have to go.”

 

Kk’s looking up at you with that calculating, canny look he gets when he knows something you don’t, and when you shake you head he raises a single eyebrow, all dramatic, and takes a deliberate, slow glance at the pale hand clenched in your shirt. 

 

“I don’t think he’s gonna let go, you might as well get your ass in the pile.”

 

“I’m not gonna just ‘get my ass in the pile’,” you say, but you’re shaking. You desperately want to get your ass in the pile, you want to help fix the mess you’d caused, you want to curl up with the both of them and let them hold you and hold them in turn because god, if there’s anyone in the universe more deserving of your pity, you don’t think you’d ever find them. 

 

You don’t want to leave, but you have to, now that you know the two people you’ve felt disgusting amounts of pale overflow for… have each other. 

 

“Sollux.”

 

He’s petting ED’s hair back, now, soft and smooth and gentler than you’d ever seen him touch anything else, and there’s this low, rough tone to his voice you know is a suppressed purr. God, you want to get in the fucking pile, but you can’t. You can’t.

 

He reaches out with his free hand, and, ever so tenderly, paps you on the cheek. 

 

Your whole body goes rigid in shock because you’d given this up. You’d given up ever having him in a quadrant because after every single fucking thing, it was always, ‘Are we still friends?’ Friends. Always friends, never anything more, never anything less. You were sure he’d never want you in any way, never want you as anything but a friend, but… 

 

“Sollux, if there’s anyone you think needs my pity more than you two, you’ve got your fucking think pan screwed on in the wrong direction. Get in the goddamned pile before I’m forced to fucking drag you into it by the hair, kicking and screaming.”

 

He says all of this in this gentle tone, gooey and affectionate, and it does things to your heart that you don’t want to think about. You allow him to pull you into the pile and arrange you to his liking, until you’re framing ED’s cold body between yours, nestled into the comfortable material surrounding you. With how much smaller the seatroll is than you, it allows you an unimpeded look at the absolute pale adoration plastered across Kk’s face, and god, he’s staring at _you_ this time. 

 

“Sollux, you’re an idiot. You’re a stupid, hideously irresponsible idiot who needs to remember to take his goddamn medication, but I’m not mad at you anymore. You fixed it. You started up the pills again, stopped being such a fucking bulgemunch, and dealt with your end of the problem.”

 

He paps you on the cheek again and you go all soft on the inside, face flushed, eyes going half lidded. You’re aware that your chest is vibrating with a sort of weak, trembly purr, but you can’t bring yourself to care about the fact that you must sound like a dying mewbeast. 

 

“Eridan’s got a lot of other problems right now, but you took one of the worse ones off his plate, which is something I am fucking proud of you for, alright? Stop acting like I hate you, because I don’t. Neither does he. He’s dumb and thick-witted as a fucking moobeast  for it but he doesn’t blame you.”

 

ED shivers and presses closer to you, nodding, tucking his head under your chin and making feeble mewbeast noises right back at you. You both sound pathetic compared to KK’s loud, powerful rumble of a purr, but he just smiles all soft like and pats you both on the head, sighing. 

 

“You’re both messes. Huge fucking messes.”

 

“But’cha lowe us anyw-way, righ’ Kar?” ED mumbles form his place between you, voice drowsy and almost unintelligible. He’s calm, now, no trace of his earlier rage and panic visible except the worn down spots on his horns and the bite mark on his hand, and you know it’ll have to get taken care of sooner or later but… you’re tired and comfortable and living out what has to be one of your most lurid pale fantasies ever, so maybe later is okay. 

 

“Of course, you stupid, asinine, imbecilic fucking shit-for-brains,” KK said fondly, pressing a kiss both to his horns, then to yours, face flushed, “That goes for both of you.”

 

You don’t know how to respond, so you close your eyes and curl around the troll clinging to you and rest your head on Kk’s shoulder and allow yourself to relax, drift off, content and safe and desperately, hoping that whatever this is, it won’t dissolve into a ‘Are we still friends’ later. 

 


End file.
